After our talk with Aileen yesterday, I went straight to bed. I didn't have the psychological, emotional, or physical capacity to deal with the problems piling up on me. I slept for a solid eight hours, and I was beyond happy about it.

My sleep schedule never disappointed me. I could sleep, even if I had things to do; I let myself rest. In the past it wouldn't have been like this, my mind would have been too wired on wishing to get things done and feeling like a failure if I didn't. However, I had moved beyond that season of my life. I was rational, and the rational thing was to get some rest when I was feeling tired. That was the purpose of Fridays in my schedule. On Fridays, I usually didn't have any responsibilities. I stayed in, made myself some breakfast, ate it in peace and then went on with my day. This consisted of catching up on my assignments, assigned readings and TV shows with Aileen. This Friday, was nothing out of the ordinary. We made ourselves a nice lunch and after our weekly Batchelor session, we went to hot yoga on 31th Street.

In the evening, we watched the game Alex was playing. Aileen being the basketball connoisseur caught me up on the rules and positions of players in the game. Her father was a basketball coach and the knowledge of the game rubbed on her.

Saturday rolled around before I could blink. I was feeling refreshed. I made myself some coffee and checked my phone for new messages. Around ten, I put on some leggings and a hoodie and packed my school bag with a spare set of clothes, wondering if I could get some schoolwork done after the session at the coffee shop. I didn't know if it would be too pushy, to text Alex, if he was still coming. But then, a "ding" sound saved me from overcontemplating.

His text made me giddy inside. After all, it had been ages since I had convinced Nicole to join me. It didn't go so well. While putting on my running shoes, I thought that maybe I should have left a note for Aileen.

I opened the front door and there he was with his gym bag slung over his shoulder. "Ready?" he asked.

I nodded. "So we are taking the subway, the one on 8th Avenue and then we walk to the studio," I started to explain our route.

"Great," he smiled and asked, "so your roommate ... she wasn't angry, because I kept you out for too long?"

I noticed that he was pretty straightforward and he quickly picked up on signs of what was happening with people around him. "No, she was fine. You know, it's just that your reputation precedes you and she doesn't foster trusting feelings towards the male species itself, so..." I tried to explain as much as I could about Aileen, without letting him know too much about her past.

"Okay so to date you, a person should go through your overprotective brothers, and then at the end, there is your roommate," he joked.

"Basically, yes. You feel lucky yet, as you're not thinking of dating me?" I nudged him with my elbow as we were walking towards the subway station. He gave me a slight smile back and I could see a hint of sorrow in his eyes, but I must have surely just imagined it. Right?

On the subway, I noticed how he stood behind me at all times. I also noticed the stares some girls and even older women have given him. But he was solely focused on the task at hand. Not get robbed or mobbed or crushed by the mass of people going places. He nudged me and I looked up to see, what he meant.

"Free seat, you can sit down," I followed his gaze towards the seat he just mentioned.

"No, it's okay, I can stand. You sit," I averted my gaze from the empty chair towards him. I noticed how he was trying to fold his limbs so he would take up the least amount of space.

I saw him roll his eyes at the mention of him sitting down, "Will you just sit?"

"No," I motioned for him to lower his head so I could speak directly to his ear, "you know these seats are really dirty, I don't mind standing up."

He rolled his eyes again. And when another person sat on the seat, he gave me an all-knowing look. I just shook my head and looked towards the subway door. After a while, I asked him about his basketball game from the evening before. His eyes glowed as he told me about the manoeuvres and points he scored. I could see he enjoyed it.

We left the subway and headed towards Kick to the box studio. I said hi to some people, while Alex trailed behind me. He surprisingly didn't look uncomfortable. We separated at the locker rooms. Five minutes later we were in a room with punching bags and other equipment. It looked surreal, him there. After all, he was a basketball player and he occupied a lot of space.

"So, what do you do? How do you warm up?" he asked me while walking toward the benches. I felt out of place. I usually didn't bring anybody to my sparing sessions. Because I had some experience, I usually just took my anger out on the bag. It was just me and the bag, sometimes a trainer. My warm-up consisted of stretching and light jogging in place. But now I found myself asking if that was enough. If I was doing enough.

"I just do some stretching and jogging in place," I answered, trying to not make the session something out of the ordinary for me. I started doing my routine, and I quickly fell into it. Nothing too much, I felt my muscles relax and the tension that I had felt just a minute ago, went away. I noticed Alex following me and adding some movements of his own. Of course, he would know better, he was after all a professional.

After the warm-up, I showed him which bag I usually used, he took the one beside mine. I began to notice that he was good at it. "Did you do this before?" I found myself asking.

"Me and the boys, sometimes after the game, there is still too much tension. And if we lose, it's good I guess to let out the disappointment," he answered swiftly as his breathing became more shallow.

I nodded in understanding. He followed, "And when that thing happened last year, this bag was the only thing keeping me, from doing something stupid."

I saw him drifting away with his memories, so I figured a sparring session would keep his mind off it, "Are you ready? I figure we had enough warm-up?"

Alex smiled with relief, "Ready when you are." 

We made our way towards one of the mats in the corner of the room. When we first started to fight, I could sense he held himself back. "Don't hold back just because I am a girl," I started.

Alex shook his head and amusingly answered, "Can't help it, you are a girl, and I don't want to damage that pretty face of yours."

"Alex, we had a deal," I threw a kick as I said it, "and I take my deals very seriously."

"So do I," he agreed as he put his hand around my leg to block another kick aimed at his torso.

"Good one," I commented as I made a spin to shake off his hand, "now, don't just block me."

"Rosie, Rosie. I thought we had established this," he blocked another one of my kicks, "you kick, I block."

I rolled my eyes and shrugged, "Fine by me. Just don't say at the end that I didn't beat you fair and square."

"I won't," he kicked and I blocked. We've gone like that back and forth for a couple more minutes, before calling it quits. He was good, I gave him that.

"You're better than I expected," I said as we were drinking water at the side of the mat.

"You aren't that bad as well," he leaned towards me, "and to be fair, you have beat me, even though I wasn't trying."

"You so were," I laughed at his poor attempt to rebuild his image.

"Did not."

"Did so," I mocked him.

He laughed and I thought that I had missed his laugh, even though we had seen each other almost every day in the past week. "Come on let's go for the bags one last time before we finish," I made my way towards the bags on the other side, so he wouldn't see my cheeks getting redder.

We finished the session as we started it, by the bags. My eyes drifted back to his side profile. His head was hung low, but his hands were now moving at a more fast-paced speed. He looked like somebody being chased by demons. I started wondering if it was a smart idea to bring him here. He slowed his pace and puffed out a breath of air. He steadied his bag, after noticing me stopping.

I let go of the breath I didn't know I was holding, before asking, "Are you okay? Or can we talk now? About why are you here?" His eyes were dodging mine, not wanting to look up and give me an answer.

"Come on," I started, "we are going to get something to eat and you are going to talk. I know I said, I wouldn't pressure you, but seeing you like that, it's not giving me good memories."

I headed towards the changing rooms. I couldn't look back if he was following me, I just couldn't. Maybe I thought, I shouldn't give him an ultimatum as I did with Dylan, but this was something he needed help with. I changed into comfy clothes, that I brought with me, and I headed out. As I was approaching the front desk, fear crept into me. "He might not be there anymore," a little voice inside me said, "I might have scared him away".

My breath wasn't steady anymore; he was in pain before we parted. He might have done something, and he might not come back. But he was there, standing in the fresh September air of New York. I went through the door and locked my arm around his. "So down there," I pointed with my finger, "are the best pancakes you can imagine, but they also have a great yoghurt bowl, assai bowl, and avocado sandwiches."

"We are going to eat, and you are going to talk," I looked sternly into his brown eyes. "Now, you don't want to leave your friend in worry, right?"

His lips were pressed in a firm line, and his eyes were moving from one side of my face to another as if to catch me if I was lying, as to catch me with ill intentions. But I decided to hold on to that look in his eyes and I didn't budge with my gaze. Not this time. One side of his lips turned upward, "So we are friends now?"

I let out a breath of relief, "You've seen me drenched in sweat, I believe that's what friends are for." I smiled and started walking forward. He didn't have a choice but to follow my strides, as I was still holding on to him.